Valentine
by jae-vous
Summary: He just hopes that what he has planned doesn't ruin the evening. Because, God help him, he's been ready for what seems like a lifetime.


_**Happy Valentine's Day :o)**_

_**Jae**_

* * *

"Ziva…." He calls patiently from where he waits by their front door, checking his watch as the minute hand slowly creeps toward the six. He strains his ears for the faint sound of her shuffling around their bedroom, and her voice answers back hurriedly to him.

"Almost ready!" She calls distantly from within the apartment, repeating herself for the third time since arriving home, and he chuckles quietly to himself despite the fact they may very well be late to their dinner reservation. Dropping his wrist to the pocket of his jacket, he fumbles for the small, velvet box that seems to grow heavier in the folds of his suit pocket.

If he had hoped the touch would calm his nerves, it only serves to amplify them, and the increasingly familiar panic threatens to overwhelm him, not for the first time, since putting his plan into action. Just as he thinks he may have to step out and allow himself a moment for a brief, self-induced panic attack, Ziva's heels echo loudly from down the hall, and she suddenly appears around the corner; a dazzling smile on her face that causes him to release a shaky sigh - the sight of her immediately grounding him.

"Ready," she winks in his direction, and he smiles, his chest growing warm as his eyes rake over her. Her curly hair was a mess for the first time in a while, the way she knows he likes it, and the gleam in her eye suggests she wore it this way, solely for him. Her dress flutters around her knees as she dances past him and disappearing into the kitchen, searching for her bag and coat. "Let me just grab my things." She doesn't wait for a response as she calls over her shoulder, but he nods patiently anyway.

When she returns to the room, she's struggling to get her arms through the elusive sleeves of her coat, and he beckons her over with a smirk. She smiles shyly as she walks into to his awaiting arms, spinning so he can help get her coat on without wrinkling her dress or catching her hair. He moves her curls over her shoulder delicately, freeing them from her collar and murmuring a soft _there_ beside her ear.

Pressing a kiss to her jaw, he feels her smile against his lips, and she turns then to face him properly.

And while he knows she doesn't expect anything from this day, nor does she desire being lavished with attention, he's happy to see that there's no reservation in her eyes as she looks back at him; instead, only anticipation, as if she'd been looking forward to their dinner the entire day.

He just hopes that what he has planned doesn't ruin the evening.

But he likes to think it's something she's ready for.

Because, God help him, he's been ready for what seems like a lifetime.

"Are you sure you're fine with going out tonight?" He can't help but check; dipping his head to look her in the eyes.

She gives him a long look, a smile revealing her teeth as she runs her hands over his collar and down his suit jacket.

"Yes," She affirms, tugging at his lapels while laughing at his hesitation. Her hand runs down his chest. "It's just dinner, rig -" Her voice falters when her hand passes over the hard box tucked inside his jacket. He freezes as he feels her fingers curl just slightly over the object, and her eyes widen slightly in surprise at him.

For a moment, neither of them seem to breathe.

Her eyes are watery when she finally whispers his name under her breath.

"Tony.…"

Unclenching his fist by his side, he reaches up to curl his fingers over Ziva's; pulling her hand into his and away from the ring he had hoped to put on the very fingers wrapped tightly in his.

"Hey, Ziva." He drops his head to look into her eyes, soothing her with a reassuring smile. "It's just dinner… if you want it to be." He brushes away a tear with his free thumb, curling his hand around her neck. She lets out a nervous laugh, turning her gaze away as she brushes at the corner of her eye. Encouraged, he smiles warmly.

"It's okay, we can stay here. Whatever you want to do -"

Ziva shakes her head infinitesimally, and takes a deep breath before turning to look back at him.

She considers him; his kind, desperate eyes, the worried lines that wrinkle his forehead, the warmth of his hand stroking her neck.

She flexes her hand still in his, tightening her grip over him.

"Let's go." She breathes out, smiling shyly at him, though her eyes still water. "Let's go to dinner."

He reads the hopeful smile on her face, and his chest warms at she's agreeing to, flaring with affection and love. He thinks his knees may buckle with nerves.

"Are you sure?" He grins, blinking rapidly to stop his eyes from burning.

Ziva nods to herself, laughing lightly, and holds up her bag; pulling at his hand.

"I'm ready," she repeats herself from earlier, and the tone in her voice rings with the double meaning. Following her lead, he allows her to pull him toward their front door; every step bringing him closer to the moment their lives would indefinitely change.

"Well, c'mon then, Valentine." He grins, opening the door, and she steps past him, smiling, and her laughter echoes all throughout the hall.

She'd be his Valentine, for tonight and from this point on.


End file.
